Pretty Peeta
by kismet4891
Summary: Katniss Everdeen has everything. She is successful, powerful, and wealthy beyond comprehension, but she is also incredibly lonely and lacking any true human connections. Peeta Mellark has nothing. He is dirt poor, barely surviving, and doing the unthinkable to stay alive, but is able to hold onto hope even though there is no reason for it on the street.
1. Chapter 1

**An Everlark twist to the movie _Pretty Woman_, for the Hunger Games Fic Exchange on tumblr. **

**A gift for Falafel_Waffel in response to the prompt, 'Everlark Pretty Woman'.**

**Banner by Ro Nordman can be found at tinyurl dot Pretty-Peeta-banner (just remove spaces)**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to_ The Hunger Games_ or _Pretty Woman_ and just borrowed for fan fiction fun. This story is exactly what it is billed as- a retelling of _Pretty Woman,_ so you should know what to expect and realize that the M rating is warranted. Thanks!**

* * *

Bright lights blur together as the car speeds down the street. To anyone on the sidewalk the windows are dark, but I can see out of them perfectly. Although I must admit, the passing landscape of trash cans, shitty bodegas, and all you can eat buffets hold little interest for me. Gale sits beside me, grimacing and furiously composing texts on his smart phone.

I should be pissed at him. He is the reason why the meeting came to such a grinding halt. I'm not, though; I've known him too long to be concerned with how worked up and involved he becomes any time we try to negotiate a merger like this. It will all work out in the end. It always does. Greed will overcome personal taste, exorbitant amounts of money will exchange hands, and I'll get the hell out of Los Angeles.

I hate being in cities, surrounded by concrete, and strange smells, feeling suffocated, but I'm always in gigantic cities. If it weren't Los Angeles, it would be Tokyo or New York, maybe even Houston or London.

I miss the simpler times. I miss my sister. I miss what it feels like to smile genuinely. I miss knowing there is a purpose for these business trips and the work that we do. I even miss my best friend, who despite the fact he is sitting beside me, seems a thousand miles away.

"Let's get food, I'm famished." My interruption surprises Gale, causing him to look up from his phone and give me a funny look.

He shakes his head and then grins at me, displaying his perfect white smile. "You can't seriously be hungry. We had a four course meal just hours ago."

I scrunch my nose at him. "The portions are always so small. A salad should be an overflowing thing in a bowl, not six sprigs of measly lettuce with three drops of dressing. Come on, Hawthorne, I'm hungry." I'm whining as we pull up to the Four Seasons, and watch as the driver hops out and opens the door for us.

Before I can wave him off, Gale is handing me my bag, "Sorry, Catnip. You know when I'm in Los Angeles I like to see as much of Johanna as I can." He raises his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive movement.

"Give me the keys to your rental then." He should be used to my demands, seeing as we've known each other since we were children.

Gale rolls his eyes at me, "I don't think so."

"Please, I'm really hungry." I'm hungry, but not so much that I can't wait until the morning to eat. Really, I'm just looking to avoid going up to my hotel room this early in the evening. I won't be able to sleep so I'll end up staring at the walls for hours.

"You are also a really terrible driver. You'll get lost and I'll have to send the LAPD out to find you."

I extend my hand right under his nose, "Keys, or I guess this little thing with Johanna is turning into a three way. I'm not getting out of the car until you give me those keys."

He takes my threat seriously and fishes them from his pocket, "The sad thing is that I'm pretty sure Johanna would be all about it, but I'm not. I don't want to see your skinny ass naked." Gale is only half joking, I like his wife just fine, she's a great woman whose father's political influence really helps our networking. His mistress, Johanna, though…she's a piece of work, hilarious and sexually adventurous. I like her.

* * *

Gale was right. This was a mistake. I'm so incredibly lost and there is no way I'll ever get back to the Four Seasons. I'm somehow going in circles and keep passing the same chain pharmacy storefront over and over again. The only reason I know it is the same one is because there are two men huddled under the street lamp. With each pass of the car I notice more details about them, especially the blonde one, who is just slightly shorter than the man beside him.

Both are dressed horrifically, like cast mates on the Jersey Shore or something, the taller man is gesticulating with his hands animatedly telling a story and the blonde man nods his head and smiles in response. A honk behind me alerts that the light has turned green.

I make another pass around to get a look at the pair, trying to decide if their relaxed demeanor means they are safe enough to ask directions from. This time when I turn the corner, I realize that the taller man is gone, leaving the blonde man standing underneath the street lamp alone. You only live once; I may as well go ahead and ask before the car runs out of gas.

I ease the car up to the street curb and roll the window down, the blonde man notices the vehicle, but doesn't approach it. His hesitance is reassuring, but I could really use some assistance finding this gyro place the concierge raved about. Eventually, he approaches the car. "Look tonight is my night off and all, but I think that Finn will be back soon…" His voice trails off as he actually looks inside the car and catches a glance of me. "But for you, now you're a different story. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you could give me directions, or well I'm at least hoping you can." He's either talking about drugs or sex. He looks clean, not like I'd expect a dealer to look, but he doesn't exactly look like a prostitute either.

"You sure you don't want to make my night off a little more exciting? I'll give you a discount." Without a doubt, the handsome blonde man peering into my car with oddly colored brown eyes is a prostitute.

He gives me a huge smile, his teeth are white and gleam in the ambient light of the street, but they lack the perfection of Gale's teeth. They are slightly crooked, and one of his lower teeth just barely hides behind the one beside it. I like the blonde man's smile better, it feels real. I knew Gale before the cosmetic dental surgery. I know his smile is not real.

"How much for directions to Papa Cristos?"

"Ah, Papa Cristos. Supposedly the best lamb gyro in LA, although I don't know myself, never been. I do know how to get there though." He starts to give detailed instructions about which light to turn at and what streets to avoid, and my mind is not absorbing any of the information. "No charge for the directions." He smiles at me again and it is so authentic I can't help but smile in return.

"Here's the deal. I'm sure your directions were spot on, but I'm a ditz when it comes to remembering things of that nature." I'm about to hand him my phone so he can type the directions in, since I can't seem to find it on GPS, when I surprise myself, "How much for you to join me for a gyro?"

"Now I've heard it called some interesting things, but a gyro is a new one."

"I'm serious. I'd like to buy you dinner. If you've already eaten, I'd like for you to join me so I don't have to eat alone. I understand if it's extra for the directions, but I don't mind. What's the damage for a dinner date?"

"Sounds too easy." He steps back and eyes the car suspiciously, looking into the back seat. Then he opens the doors and pushes the locks and window controls, "You can never be too careful." His behavior perplexes me; surely a meal is better than a quick rendezvous in the back seat of a car.

"I'd assume it would be nice to have someone who just wants to enjoy your presence, without you having to, well…"

"…Fuck them." He unapologetically finishes the statement for me, inserting the word I was too embarrassed to utilize, as he crawls into the passenger seat. "Fifty bucks sound fair? Also, you're buying dinner, right?"

I nod my head as I open my purse and realize I don't have anything smaller than a one hundred dollar bill, I press it into his hand anyways, "Keep the change. Do you want to drive? I'd rather not."

* * *

His name is Peeta, which he tells me is actually his real name. His clients call him Kane, but he felt like he could trust me with the real deal since I trusted him enough to take him to dinner. I'm immediately at ease in Peeta's presence. He does not abide by any preconceived notion I may have had about a man of his profession, although I don't ever recall giving the topic much thought.

The restaurant is a nice change of pace from the ridiculous places I've been eating at since my plane landed a few days ago. The storefront is bakery style with a patio where Peeta and I take our gyros and enjoy the crisp night air.

We share polite conversation while we wait for our food to be delivered. I learn that Peeta really is quite charming and pleasant to be around. He fills the gaps in conversations with funny anecdotes about his small hometown. His voice is comforting, and there is a slight drawl when he pronounces certain words that clue me into the fact that he isn't from around here.

Things become interesting once our meal is delivered. Peeta tears into his gyro like it is the first thing he has eaten in weeks. My stomach drops at the sight, not because it is revolting, but because it reminds me of a time in the not so distant past when I watched my sister eat like that. I know what it's like to be that hungry, and no amount of money will ever allow me to forget it. Without the Hawthorne's intervention, Prim and I could have easily been in the same place that Peeta is.

He notices me watching him and his cheeks flush a bright pink, eyes wide as he lowers his food, "Sorry 'bout that, it was just so good." The meal is good, but not that good. I can't help but wonder how long it's been since Peeta had a full meal.

Before Momma had been moved into the home, when I was still struggling to make government subsidies stretch, Prim found an ugly, mangy kitten. She begged to keep the kitten and I refused; there was no way that we would be able to sustain another mouth. She didn't speak to me for weeks. I didn't feel good about the decision, and the kitten most likely starved. I'm reminded of this while I watch Peeta. I'm in the position to help him, but I don't know how. I doubt he would take money from me; he seems too proud for that.

"You know, I'm not feeling as hungry as I thought. Would you care to finish mine? I hate letting food go to waste." I push my food basket towards him.

Peeta grabs it and pulls it in front of him, "Yeah, me too, maybe I'll get something to wrap it in and take it back home with me." He is entirely too excited at the prospect and my heart breaks watching him. I know what he is doing. He is calculating how long he can make the gyro last, how long he can stretch something that was intended to be cast away.

"Peeta?" I speak up, but he is still talking and doesn't realize I've addressed him.

"Thank you so much for dinner, Katniss. It's been ages since I've had something to eat that wasn't prepared in a microwave."

I try again, "Peeta?"

"Uh huh?" There's that smile again, the one that I have no clue how he pulls off so seamlessly given his circumstances.

"What's your rate for a night?" My heart is beating so wildly, I can feel my pulse thrumming in my ears. I can't remember the last time I was so unsure and nervous about a decision I was trying to make. It's my job to play it cool, not get irrational, and think everything through. I'm obviously failing now.

He casts me a sideways glance, "Um, like, what did you have in mind? It typically depends on what you want. If you want to watch me jerk off, then it's like fifty bucks, but if you want me to fuck you, then that's a flat two hundred."

Peeta is so matter of fact when he says these things, negotiating like we are discussing what to watch on television. "I'm not interested in engaging in sexual relations with you. I just want to take you back to my hotel, and have you spend some time with me. How much would that be?"

"Like in your bed, but with clothes on?"

It unsettles me how hard it is for him to believe that I just want to be around him. "Actually, I don't sleep much so you can have the bed. Feel free to sleep in whatever you want. I just don't want to be alone tonight."

"Uh, how about five hundred dollars since I'm staying the night. That sound okay?"

"You are a persuasive business man, Peeta. That works for me." I wish he had asked for more, I would have gladly paid. Five hundred dollars won't go very far in this city. I'll slide some more in his pocket or something; I've got all night to figure it out.

For the first time all night, Peeta looks unsure of himself. He raises his hand to his face and rubs it over his nose several times. It's a nervous gesture I recognize from years of trying to find anxious tells in people on the other side of the negotiating table. "I well, I want to tell you that I'm not a street walker, you know what I mean?" His eyes don't meet mine.

"I don't care what you do, Peeta, I'm just glad to have the company." My attempt at reassurance doesn't seem to help, because he has more to say.

"Well, I'm not. I was a dancer, which now when I say it out loud doesn't seem much better, and I had a few regulars who would pay for after show visits. You know, mostly older women, all on the up and up, just unhappy with their marriages and stuff."

None of this matters to me because I don't plan on doing anything with Peeta other than talking. I just want to do something nice for him. Who knows, maybe a good deed to balance years of bad business karma is what I need. I try to interrupt, but Peeta gives me a look that lets me know he isn't finished. "A few weeks ago, one of those husbands filed a complaint and even though the management was aware what went on, they couldn't turn a blind eye when an actual complaint was made. I lost my job and even though I've still got a few regulars, I may have to work the streets a bit until I can secure employment again."

"Okay. I'm sure you will find something soon. Are you ready to go?" He nods and grabs the gyro that he has wrapped in a napkin.

I'm not sure how this evening evolved into this, but it has and I can't say I really know how I feel about it. I guess the true test will be getting back to the hotel and seeing what happens there.

* * *

**Thank you to Wildharp and Chelzie for the wonderful beta assistance! Hotpie for her support, and ultimately Falafel_Waffel for the fun prompt!**

***Happy New Year!***

* * *

**This is already on Ao3 and I wasn't planning on posting it here, but there were some requests for it to be made available- so, here it is. The story is complete and has six chapters. I plan on updating every few days or so, depending on interest. Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Several of you asked for a quick turnaround on the update...so, here it is. Please note that there M rating, it comes into play in this chapter.**_

_**Thanks for the reviews!**_

* * *

We catch a few noticeable glares and sideways glances as we walk through the lobby, but it's nothing I can't handle. Peeta is completely oblivious as he looks all around him. We make it up to the penthouse and he completely stops in the hallway, unmoving while staring into the open door of the bathroom.

"Oh fuck! This bathroom is the craziest thing I have ever seen." Peeta hovers at the threshold, pointing and murmuring excitedly. "I've swam in pools smaller than that tub." He remains standing in the doorway, almost as if he is afraid to breach the entrance.

Well, this should keep him occupied for a bit, so much for worrying about what I was going to do with him. "Go ahead, enjoy yourself."

"What?" He looks at me skeptically, like there could possibly be a double meaning to what I just suggested. It's yet another reminder that his life is vastly different from mine. I search for the truth behind everyone's words, but not because I don't trust them, it's more like I'm trying to decide the best way to manipulate the situation in my favor.

"Take a bath, Peeta," I gesture to the door trying not to roll my eyes. "Or a shower, or whatever you want to do in there. I've got some phone calls to make to overseas clients."

His caramel brown eyes widen, and he looks like he might explode. I'm not sure what I was thinking bringing him here with me. It is quite possible that I'm dreaming, because no one should get that happy to just take a bath. Peeta disappears into the bathroom, and I walk over to the office area to get settled and make some phone calls.

I don't even have the first number dialed when I look up and I'm startled to find Peeta standing in front of me. A huge gust of air expels from my lungs, and I rest my elbows on my knees while I catch my breath. "Christ, Peeta, you scared me." My eyes focus on the floor where I notice that both of Peeta's socks have giant holes above the big toe.

"Before I shower, I was, uh, hoping you could go ahead and pay me."

* * *

I know when Peeta emerges from the bathroom, but don't look up from the email I'm reading in hopes that he will get the idea not to interrupt me. While he was showering, I called downstairs to see about getting him his own room. It was a terrible idea to bring him back here with me. This is what happens when I don't think things through- I end up with a prostitute in my room.

No rooms were available though, so I ordered a spread of meat, cheese, bread and wine to keep him busy while I work. I won't soon forget the way he tore into the gyro. It reminded me of watching Prim eat after our Dad died and Mom went mentally AWOL.

"Katniss?" Peeta calls my name softly, and I close my eyes while shaking off the barrage of memories assaulting me. I look over the top of my computer screen, and am shocked to be greeted with the sight of Peeta completely naked in front of me. His cock is at eye level, making it difficult to focus on anything aside from the fact that he is completely bald downstairs.

No trace of hair anywhere.

"Peeta, what on earth are you doing? Put some clothes on, or a robe, or something." I divert my eyes from his body, which is a little bit difficult to do. It's been months since I've seen a naked man, and despite knowing that for the right amount of money anyone could have him, the state of my panties lets me know that I want Peeta.

"I just thought you might be ready for me. It makes me anxious being here and holding money for services I haven't rendered yet." He thinks we are going to sleep together, even though I told him at the restaurant this was not the case. I mean it makes sense, seeing as I paid him to stay the night here.

Peeta's body is amazing. All hard lines and planes of smooth skin, a little too smooth. I'm not a fan of a man who shaves his body hair, especially all of his pubic hair. "Sorry, Peeta, I'm not really into hardwood floors, so I'm going to have to pass on the sex. I'd still like your company, though, and I've ordered us some food." The fact that he is clean shaven gives me an out. I don't have to make an excuse as to why I don't want to be with him, as the truth works just fine.

"Oh, I'm not hungry." I stop staring at the ceiling and try to make eye contact with Peeta, who is now standing with his hands covering himself, shoulders slumped, staring at his feet. His posture confuses me. He seems embarrassed, but I find that hard to believe from a man who just strutted in here completely nude.

I move from my perch at the desk and rifle through the closet, removing a robe from the hanger. I walk over to Peeta and hand it to him. "You really don't want me?" Peeta's question is posed so quietly that I almost miss it.

He takes the robe from my outstretched hand and puts it on. Once he is covered, I stand directly in front of him and put on my best reassuring face. I think that I have a great one honed over time through bull shitting my way through negotiations. I am about to explain, but there is a knock at the door signaling the arrival of the spread I've ordered.

* * *

I've taken to watching Peeta as he enjoys the food and wine. He is watching ESPN and arguing with the analysts as he sits on the floor in front of a massive flat screen television that is mounted to the wall. I'm getting a kick out the way he points his finger at the screen and vehemently argues his point to men who can't hear him.

"Ahhhh, boooom baby! That's what I'm talking about!" Peeta hollers while jumping to his feet, fist pumping the air.

I grab the bottle of wine and move onto the couch, refreshing his glass and filling one for myself along the way. "Thank you," he states, not removing his eyes from the television. He is still wrapped in a hotel robe tied loosely at his waist, and there is an ample amount of his chest showing. I'm paying for the show, so I might as well enjoy it.

"You're welcome." I raise the glass to my lips and take a sip, "Do you like basketball, Peeta?"

He turns to me, flashing a lopsided grin that displays his teeth. "Hell yeah, I do. What about you, do you like basketball?"

"Honestly, not really."

Peeta's face falls, "Oh, I'm sorry. Here, let me change it, what do you want to watch?"

"Don't turn it, you were enjoying yourself. I'm going to read anyway." I'm holding my tablet which I tip towards him. "Important stuff, you know. Please continue watching whatever it is that's getting you so fired up."

Instead of reading like I told him I was going to, I have another idea brewing. Gale had mentioned something about courtside Lakers tickets, and how we could really impress Snow and Associates by taking them to a game. After today's disastrous meeting, Gale is the last person that Snow wants to see, but we still have the tickets and I need a companion.

What better companion than one I can purchase tailored to fit my immediate needs. If Peeta was on the payroll, wouldn't he play the part I asked him to?

The room has since grown quiet. Peeta is sitting on the floor but his eyes are trained on me, not the muted television. "Why are you doing this, Katniss? What's in it for you if you don't want to sleep with me? I mean, if you weren't so small, I'd be concerned you were a serial killer or something." He's not joking. No laugh escapes his mouth, and his lips don't curl into a knowing smile. I'm glad I'll never know what it's like to weigh the possibilities of getting to eat or getting murdered.

I answer him honestly. "It gets lonely at the top. Not a lot of people like me, but when you smile at me, I forget that…even if I had to buy the smile." In the entire world, there is not one person who I can be completely honest with. Peeta is different, though. Despite what he does for a living, there is no pretense with him. He simply is who he is, no shame, no hiding. I like that. I envy that.

The resulting smile that Peeta shoots me lights his entire face before he tilts an eyebrow my way and it evolves into a knowing smirk. "You sure I can't make you feel good?" He leans over on all fours putting one hand in front of the other, crawling towards me, "Maybe just fuck you with my fingers, or lick you?"

He is slowly getting closer, one hand over the other, working his way towards me. "In fact, I'd really like to lick you, Katniss. I'm actually very good at it." He is in front of me now as he drops his chin to rest on my knees, staring up at me. When he is this close, I can make out the seams of the contacts he is wearing. "Let me make you feel good." Peeta's voice has taken on a husky quality, and his tongue darts between his perfectly pink lips, wetting them and me with his actions. He really is quite good at this seduction game, so much so that I _almost_ believe that he wants me. I can almost forget that we aren't lovers, and that I have purchased his time.

I'm still mulling over how I feel about having him here, but when I look down at him with his chin on my knee and eyes filled with feigned adoration, I realize that I like it. I like having him here. His fingers creep up my thigh, tug my shirt from the waist of my pants, and I surprise myself by letting him.

I allow it because I want this. I want to come apart, I want to feel, I want to forget the world for a bit.

* * *

Somehow, I convince Peeta to take the bed.

I can tell he didn't believe me when I said that I don't sleep, but it's the truth. Insomnia has plagued me since Gale and I made our first multi-million dollar deal. I slip in just before dawn to grab some clothes for the day, and see that Peeta is in the middle of the bed, lying on his stomach. The sheet is bunched low on his waist, covering most of his ass. I shouldn't be surprised that Peeta sleeps nude, it's just the fact that he is choosing to do so in my bed.

It seems so personal, such an invasion of space that is mine, but I rather like the sight of it. It's been a long while since I've had a naked man in my bed, even if it was a hotel bed. Something stirs low in my belly despite being sexually sated merely hours ago.

There is no doubt about it that Peeta is very talented with his tongue. I came hard under the voracious ministrations of his tongue and fingers, my own hands pulling roughly on his hair and my thighs clenching around his head. Then, I came again. He was pleased with himself, and I'm pretty sure the sight of him looking up at me from between my legs red-faced, eyes wide, and hair damp with perspiration will be the driving force behind many late night meetings with my vibrator.

It was definitely worth the five hundred dollars it cost to have him stay with me.

I'm eating when my phone buzzes beside me. It's a text from Gale informing me that Snow and Associates would like to attend the game tonight, and he thinks it's best that he doesn't attend. I knew this was coming, but now that it's confirmed, I'm more than a little happy to invite Peeta to come with me.

When I hear his footfalls make their way into the dining area, I don't look up from my plate but address him. "Make yourself a plate, I had them bring up a little of everything since I wasn't completely sure what you liked to eat for breakfast." His back is turned to me as he fills his plate. "Peeta, have you ever been to the Staples Center before?"

"Yeah, I've been by there a few times. You need some more help with directions?" he asks as he sits down beside me, plate overflowing with food. Peeta spears a sausage and raises it to his mouth, stuffing the entire thing in and chewing.

"Well, I find myself in a bit of a conundrum. I was hoping that I could persuade you to allow me to purchase another night of your time. I need to take some business associates to the Lakers game, but I know nothing about basketball and need a companion."

"Are you fucking with me?" Peeta cocks his head at me and purses his lips.

"Why would I joke about something like this?"

"You're going to pay me to go to a basketball game with you?" His eyes widen, and I realize this morning that they are undeniably blue. "Oh, fuck me, you mean tonight, right?"

Peeta's outburst surprises me. I think he is excited, but I can't tell. "Do you have a schedule conflict?"

"Hell no!" he exclaims, letting me know for sure that he is excited. I'm a bit mesmerized by the startling clear blue of his eyes, making me wonder why he hid them behind contacts.

"I assume the rate is the same as it was last night? Does this work for you?"

"Yes! A thousand fucking times yes! I'll need to go home and get something to wear, though."

This won't work. His attire needs to fit a certain standard for the courtside tickets we have paid a fortune for. "Do all of your clothes look like the ones you wore last night? Because I'm not taking a Jersey Shore look alike with me. You are going to have to get some new clothes."

Peeta frowns at this and it dawns on me that what I said was rather insulting. I should apologize, but I don't. Instead, I hand him my credit card. "Here, take this and go shopping. Get whatever you need, but just know that we will be sitting courtside so you need to be dressed appropriately. I'll be back early this afternoon, and we can grab something quick to eat before the game. Does that work?"

His jaw hangs open as he stares at the card in his hand and then back at me several times before nodding his head. "And keep the contacts out, your real eyes are much better than the ones you were wearing last night."

As I let myself out of the room, I smile when I hear him let out a loud whoop before I make it onto the elevator.

* * *

**Thank you to Chelzie and Wildharp for beta'ing and providing details about Los Angeles! Also, thank you to Falafel_Waffel for the idea that spurred the story!**

***Find me on tumblr (kismetff) and join the fun***


	3. Chapter 3

_**I wasn't planning on updating today, but you guys are so awesome with the feedback, follows, and favorites that I just had to get this out there for you! Only three more chapters to go!**_

_**Happy New Year's Eve!**_

* * *

Peeta practically jumps at me when I get back from meeting with Snow. I'm shocked to find him in an outfit and shoes similar to what he had on the night before. "This is going to have to do. The shirt is clean. I went all the way home to get it." He confirms that the jeans and shoes are the same ones I saw last night. I notice a worn out backpack sitting beside the couch with a large notebook tablet beside it.

"I don't understand. I gave you access to all the money you could have possibly needed to get new clothes." I really can't have him parading around in ripped jeans and knock off Affliction t-shirts, not to mention his shoes, which are worn and filthy.

His cheeks flush bright red. "It was horrible!" Peeta exclaims loudly, "I almost got arrested and they confiscated your card. I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

I hadn't anticipated him having any trouble using my card. I feel awful that he almost got arrested, but he should have just contacted me so I could give the store the okay. "That's terrible, but why didn't you call me? I left you my number."

"I don't have a cell phone," he mumbles. "I understand if you don't want to take me now."

Once again, I feel like a complete ass; of course he doesn't have a cell phone. He admitted to surviving off of ramen noodles and hot sauce. "Nonsense, I'll have to cancel the dinner reservations and have something brought up, but I can fix this." Not only will I fix this, I will make it up to him for putting him through the shame of almost being arrested. I'm going to make sure he has the best time tonight, and he is going to do it on a full stomach.

As luck would have it, Gale's mistress is also a buyer for a retail clothing chain. Within an hour of my phone call to her with Peeta's size and orders for everything from underwear to accessories, her assistant, Portia, has shown up with a rack of clothing all appropriate for the game. Unfortunately, Johanna also sent Gale to sniff around why her services were needed to help dress a man who was staying with me.

Peeta and Portia have long since disappeared into the bedroom and I'm picking at a sandwich when Gale knocks on the door. "When you said you found the perfect someone to take to the game, I had no clue you'd be dressing him, too. What's this about, Catnip?"

"I've got a friend coming to the game with me. He loves basketball and is really charismatic; he just didn't have anything to wear." I've never had to explain myself to Gale before, so I'm not sure why I have to start now.

"Katniss," Peeta's voice carries from the bedroom, and then he appears wearing nothing but a very tight pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs and carrying a pair of jeans. "Okay, so the price tags on these jeans are just about ridiculous. They cost more than my rent." He looks up to see Gale and I standing there. He quickly positions the jeans in front of himself, covering his underwear, and waves at us.

"Peeta, this is my business partner, Gale. Gale this is…"

"Peeta Mellark, nice to meet you," Peeta approaches with his hand extended. "Guess I'd better go finish getting dressed if we want to make it on time." They shake hands before Peeta leaves the room.

Once Peeta is completely out of ear shot, Gale leans over, "Now what the fuck is going on here? Who is that?"

"You heard him, that's Peeta. He's my date for the game tonight."

"You are buying this Peeta person clothes? He sounds like a gold digger to me, Catnip. I don't like this." Of course Gale would have experience with gold diggers, I think he has dated at least three of them.

"Hawthorne, you don't like anything that isn't your idea. Besides, I thought you would be glad to have the night with Johanna."

"Can you trust him? You were beaming at him like nothing I've ever seen from you before. I don't want him here acting like he likes you for your money and leaving you hurt when he bails." I have a hard time believing I was beaming at Peeta, or that Gale cares about me getting hurt. He cares about the money and our shared interest in the company.

"Seriously, Gale, it's a non issue. I know he doesn't like me, so you don't have to worry about me getting hurt. It's only a _business transaction_." I stress the last part, hoping that he will pick up what I'm inferring without having to explain myself further.

"Yeah, yeah, but we could have just gifted all the seats to Snow; you don't have to go." He assumes I'm talking about that business transaction and not the one with Peeta. "I think you like him."

Gale and his assumptions are tiring. I may as well just clarify things so he will leave and I can get on with my evening. "I'd better not hear anything about this after I tell you this, but Peeta is an escort. I know he doesn't like me, and yes he is here for money, but it is an amount we've mutually come to an agreement on."

Gale's face scrunches up and then the laughter starts, rolling from deep inside his chest and reverberating off the high ceilings of the room. I stand there staring at him as he looks at me and sobers up, "You're serious, aren't you?"

With a huff to let him know I'm irritated, I cross my arms over my chest. "Why would I lie about something like this?"

"Are you fucking him? Is that even safe?" Gale asks and clenches his jaw. I am unimpressed with his sudden interest in my sex life.

"I have not had sex with him, not that it's any of your concern." That's technically the truth; he went down on me but we didn't actually have sex. "Now get out of here, we have a game to attend."

Gale walks towards the door, still snickering to himself when Peeta emerges from the bedroom. He looks dapper in dark jeans that fit snug around his waist and ass, but taper out in the legs for more of a loose fit. The shirt he is wearing is a soft cotton v-neck in a light shade of blue, there are a pair of silver aviators tucked into the collar of the shirt, and the ensemble is set off with a dark gray blazer.

I'm stunned into silence. Peeta was a beautiful man before, but in clothing that fits correctly and accentuates his wheat colored hair and stunning blue eyes, he is radiant.

"Wow. Peeta, you look incredibly handsome." I bite my bottom lip to reign in the huge smile threatening to cover my face.

"Thank you, Katniss. You look fantastic, too." His cheeks are lightly tinged pink as he looks down at himself and spreads his arms wide open. "After seeing myself in this, I can definitely see what you were saying about my old clothes. Thank you for this! I even got new underwear."

"Believe me, I noticed." I wink at him and then hand him a sandwich. "We are going to be late if we don't get going."

* * *

Taking Peeta to the game is one of the best decisions I could have made. Snow's grandson and Peeta hit it off immediately, talking sports and making jokes. I can tell that Snow is pleased to have someone there to entertain the teenager, because he spends most of the time on his phone, making calls and answering emails.

I spend most of the night watching Peeta. He is animated and full of life, easily making conversation and putting those around him at ease. People respond to him, and every interaction he has feels genuine, like he is actually interested in what those around him have to say. Had I not known where he came from and what his living situation was like, I would have never guessed that the charming blonde man made his living by selling his body.

In the car on the way back to the hotel, Peeta's stomach grumbled loudly. Even though he insisted it was fine, I had the driver take us to pick up a pizza. He's balancing the pizza with one hand while telling me a story about his roommate with the other. I'm learning bits and pieces about Peeta, but have yet to learn how he came to live in Los Angeles and working in the profession that he does. Although, I have a distinct feeling that this Finnick person he lives with is the reason that he has made it this long.

We have barely made it through the door before Peeta is working on a slice of pizza and offering the open box my way. I take a slice and chew on it as I consider how helpful it has been having Peeta with me over the last 24 hours. His presence has helped to relax me and proven invaluable in smoothing out the wake Gale created with Snow the last time we met.

He is wiping grease from his mouth with the back of his wrist. "Peeta, I know that we originally agreed on just tonight, but how would you feel about staying with me for the duration of my stay here in LA? I would compensate you, of course."

"Really?" His eyes are wide and his mouth is full of pizza. He chews a little more and then swallows before answering, "Do you just want me to stay here, or would I be doing other things like tonight? I, uh, didn't shave this morning and will be letting that situation grow out since you aren't a fan. It's just easier to keep it that way when you do what I do."

I giggle a little and blush, "Well, I'm not concerned about that. That's not why I want your time." I put my pizza crust back inside the box. "You are free to entertain yourself here during the day, and then accompany me to dinner and things of that nature in the evenings. I can arrange for Portia to bring you more clothing or go shopping with you tomorrow if you prefer. In two days, I have the entire day free and was hoping you could be my companion for the day and show me more about your town here."

He places his pizza down on the box and rubs at his nose, his nervous tick I identified the night before. "You really want to spend time with me?"

"Of course, and well, I want to make it clear that I have no expectations for you to be anything but a companion."As much as I enjoyed his mouth on me, I still feel guilty using him for something like that. I know it's his job, but I consider myself a different type of client. I really just want him around. "What you did for me last night was very nice, but I'm actually more interested in just having someone around to keep me company."

Peeta shrugs his shoulders. "I don't mind at all. It's my job." His voice is quiet, and he doesn't look up at me when he talks. "The same as you, really. With you, yelling into phones and staying up all night is how you do business. With me, being naked and eating pussy is how I pay bills. It is what it is." His tone is even and if he has any true feelings about what he just said, I can't tell.

"Can I ask how you do it? Be intimate with so many people all the time? It would be so tiring, not to mention the health risks."

"I am always safe, probably more so than you. I get tested every week." He stares at me, studying me, "You sure you want to hear this?" I nod. He is more than likely afraid to offend me since he spent thirty minutes with his head buried between my legs last night. "Um, well, I make it not intimate by having pretty strict boundaries. I never kiss a client on the mouth, and I don't let them touch me, because the experience isn't about me. If it turns into that, then it's harder to separate myself."

"Wait, so you're saying you don't come when you are with a client?"

He laughs, "No, I think that would be impossible to just never blow my load when I'm working, but there are some times I just don't. I get paid to make the client come, not myself. The client has no responsibility to me. It's one of the first things Finnick taught me." He closes the pizza box and leans back, appearing to be tired of this conversation. "I try to avoid clients who want to blow me or jerk me off solely as a means of getting me off, although those are few and far between."

My phone rings, interrupting our conversation. I step out of the room and take it. When I return, Peeta is propped up against the couch. He has shrugged off his shirt and is working in the large tablet I saw earlier. "Sorry to interrupt, I was just going to tell you to take the bedroom again. I'm going to get some work done. Good night."

"Katniss, come here." He sets the book on the coffee table in front of him.

I walk over to him, wishing he hadn't closed the book because I'd love to see what he is writing in there. "What are you working on?"

He glances towards the book, "I was just sketching. Is that okay? I don't get to do it as often as I'd like."

"Of course, Peeta, that's fine. Can I see?"

"Um, well…" Peeta's eyes trail back to the book. He seems very unsure about sharing, and I realize that he probably wants something he can just keep for himself.

"That's fine if you don't want me to see." I smile and try to make him feel more comfortable. He really doesn't have to share with me, even though I would love to see.

"No, it's just, don't feel weird okay?" He opens the sketch book and I'm greeted with my face. Peeta has drawn me with my head thrown back, hair in a mess around my face, eyes closed. He has drawn his viewpoint from the night before when he went down on me. I study the picture carefully, as it is truly magnificent.

I'm not quite sure how one with this type of skill ends up having sex for money. He should be creating art in a studio somewhere, not in my penthouse afraid that I'll get mad at him for sketching. "This is quite wonderful, Peeta. You are a very talented artist."

"That's how I ended up here in the first place. I thought I would come out here and hit it big with my paintings. When that didn't happen, I had to do something to feed myself. Anything was better than going back home."

"I don't mind that you've drawn me, in fact, it's such a beautiful rendering that I could never be mad." I can't seem to shut down the protective side of me, the side that wants to make sure Peeta is safe when I leave here. I've been able to push it down all night, but suddenly I'm overcome with worry for him. "It probably isn't wise to draw your clients, though. In cases like what happened with that woman's husband, it's the evidence he would have needed to really make your life difficult."

"I've never drawn any of the others before." Peeta flips through the book rapidly and I see landscapes, architecture, even caricature drawings, but nothing like the sketch he has created of me. The pages of the book flutter shut, and I feel Peeta's hands tugging at the yoga pants I've changed into. "It doesn't feel like work being with you." I'm sure he has said that to every other woman before me and will continue to use the line long after our time together is over.

I smile instead of reminding him he doesn't have to say things like that. But honestly, I like hearing them. Even if I know it isn't true doesn't mean there isn't a part of me that feels he enjoys it. He works the pants down around my knees before I stop him, "Peeta, this isn't necessary. I want you here without having to do this."

"I want to do this." Peeta's voice is husky and convincing, and I allow myself the fantasy that what he says is true.

The pants are soon around my ankles and Peeta kneels in front of me, running his tongue over the front of my panties before he moves them aside. My legs are close together as Peeta slips his tongue between my folds, running it up and down before working his mouth in between them, sucking and licking. There is a tremble building behind my knees, even though Peeta has his hands braced behind them, they are threatening to give out. He stands up while he works the panties down my hips, and I hold onto his shoulders while he helps me out of them.

Peeta lies down on the floor beside the coffee table, "Put a knee on either side of my ear and straddle my face."

"Peeta," I close my eyes and tell myself that I don't want this. "It's really okay, you don't need to do this."

"Don't act like you don't want this, Katniss," he asserts and reaches for me, "Quit being shy and come ride my face."

I do as he asks and straddle his head, "Hold yourself open for me, and keep your eyes open too, I want you to watch me," Peeta commands and I do just that, spreading myself right in front of his eyes. His hands grasp onto my hips tightly, and then he slides his tongue inside me. For the second time in a matter of days, Peeta makes me forget my name.

* * *

**There have been a few questions about the contacts and why Peeta would wear them. If you guys have seen the movie _Pretty Woman,_ you will remember that she starts out wearing a blonde wig to obscure her identity- I've always thought that was a way for her to make the experience less personal, distance herself from it. So, when she lost the wig after the first night it was almost like her first little step into showing him who she really was. I figured since Peeta's gorgeous eyes are one of his most identifying physical traits, (aside from wavy blonde hair) it would be a nice parallel if he altered that.**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Two more chapters after this!..._**

* * *

After the night we made our second agreement, our time together speeds by. I spend the days working, and we spend our evenings together, taking late meals and entertaining ourselves. Sometimes we find ourselves schmoozing with Snow, and other times catching late night shows. Being with Peeta makes me feel more relaxed than I have in years. The more I learn about him, the more I want to tell him about myself.

It seems like every night he finds a new way to persuade me into being intimate with him. I say persuade, when the truth is I relish the way he can make me fall apart and pant his name. I carefully honor his boundaries, as difficult as it is. We never kiss, and I never try to touch him unless directed by him.

Today is my day off, and we spend the day doing things that Peeta has wanted to do since he first moved to Los Angeles. Peeta takes me to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, as well as the Getty Center to look at the exhibits. It never ceases to amaze me that Peeta can go on and on about every single piece of artwork we come to. He even goes on for ten minutes about a canvas that is simply one shade of orange.

Next, we go to a pottery studio where you are able to paint your own pottery. Peeta chooses a flower vase, and in what seems like a matter of minutes, paints a beautiful sunset on it. The plate that I am working on is less impressive, and somehow I have combined the colors to create an unattractive muddy brown look. I furrow my brow as I look at the disappointing creation, causing Peeta to chuckle at me.

"Hey, this isn't as easy as you make it look." I scowl at him.

"You just need to practice," Peeta says good naturedly as he smiles at me. When we leave the pieces with the shop to glaze, they tell me that I can pick them up in a few days, and I vow never to return for the monstrosity that I made.

Peeta laced his fingers with mine as we visited Hollywood, showing me the Walk of Fame on Hollywood Boulevard, and the theater where they hold the Oscars each year. It was an entirely new experience for me, holding hands with a man and doing touristy things, but it was the most relaxed I could ever remember feeling. We even drove down Sunset Boulevard and Peeta pointed out the famous clubs and hotels. I did notice that he avoided pointing out where he lives, even though I knew it was somewhere nearby.

When dinner time rolled around, I insisted on going some place a little nicer than the In and Out Burger that Peeta suggests. We decided to go to Koi for sushi and sake, two of my favorite things that he had never tried.

"I can't even begin to thank you, Katniss. This day was amazing and I'll never forget it." We are in the back of the vehicle headed home. His eyes meet mine and they are bright and glassy in the dim light. Perhaps Peeta had more to drink than I realized, though he isn't slurring his words. He reaches for me and takes my hand in his. He seems reflective as he bites his bottom lip, and then drops his eyes to where our hands are connected. "Please don't pay me, I couldn't possibly take it. Work isn't supposed to be this fun."

There is something so incredibly pure about Peeta. Most people would use this situation to their advantage, but not him. He's the only honest person in Los Angeles, and his body is for sale. "Peeta, it was my pleasure, and you said it best when you said it was work. This is your job, so don't second guess your worth. If I don't pay you, then how will you justify this time off for leisure?"

My words anger him and it takes me by surprise. He pulls his hand from mine, clenches his teeth tightly, and swipes a hand roughly over his jaw. "Don't do that. Don't treat me like a project, like you are here to teach the poor street rat how to be better at the business side of things."

"Peeta, I…" The words to fix this aren't coming, my golden tongue failing me when I can't bring myself to placate him. Doing so would sully this beautiful air of honesty that always surrounds the two of us. "Uh, listen, I'm sorry. It's what I do and I don't mean it in a bad way. I just… I mean, I know that the money won't last long and I want to make sure you are taken care of after I leave." These were definitely the wrong words to say, because Peeta pushes himself to the furthest end of the vehicle, his jaw set as he stares out the window.

I reach over and place a hand on his shoulder, which Peeta promptly shrugs off. "Just drop me off on Sunset, please?" he directs the driver.

"Peeta, please don't be mad at me. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Have you ever stopped to think that I don't need someone to take care of me? Because I don't. I'm doing just fine on my own. Yeah, shit took a heavy turn a few weeks ago, but I'll work it out because that's what I do." He turns to look at me, rage blazing behind his vividly blue eyes. "I get that I'm just another commodity to you, something to be bought and played with, but I'm also a human being, Katniss. I'm capable of emotion and gratitude. I thought you knew that, but when you say things like that, I'm reminded that you don't see me as a person. I'm just like every other thing you involve yourself with…a tool."

Peeta's words cut deep because they are true. It's been a long time since I've formed a relationship with another person that wasn't about what I could gain from it. I've become someone so far removed from who I used to be. The girl my father raised is long gone, and I doubt that he would be proud of the woman left in her wake.

I back away from Peeta, receding to the other side of the spacious back seat. I fold my hands in my lap and stare out in front of me, trying to hold my chin high and control the quiver in my lip. Over the years, I have been so consumed by greed and the desire to protect Prim and myself that I have completely lost sight of who I once was.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice cuts through the thick silence in the car. It is soft, but I don't look at him. I'm too caught up in my own world to register that I should respond. I feel his hand on my face, swiping softly at my cheek. There is moisture there, I'm crying and didn't even realize it. "Hey, don't cry, okay? I don't really want to go home tonight. I was just tossing a bit of a fit, but I'm over it now. I know you weren't trying to be mean."

"That's the thing. I didn't intend to be mean, but you're right. It's just who I am; I don't take other people's feelings into consideration. My Daddy would not be proud of who I've become."

Peeta scoots to the middle seat and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him. "I have a hard time believing that."

I stare at Peeta's mouth, but don't try to take his lips between my own because I know he won't allow it. Instead, I throw a leg over his and straddle his lap, shifting and moving over his groin while I kiss the exposed skin of his neck. With my teeth, I nip and pull at the soft flesh stretched over his collarbone, all the while rotating my hips in slow circles on his lap.

Peeta grows hard underneath me. I can feel him pushing against the seat of my jeans. When I feel a deep moan reverberate against my lips through the column of his throat, I know what I want to do. While it may be a tad selfish because I want to do it, the act is one that is purely for Peeta's benefit. Technically, it breaks one of his rules, but will bring me great pleasure to do this, more than it probably should.

Settling myself between his knees, I rub my palm up and down his length through his jeans. He is hard and thick underneath my hand. I move for the fastener and Peeta's hand covers mine. I look up at him and he shakes his head at me, even though his ragged breathing and flushed cheeks tell another story. I pull my hand out from under his, undoing his pants and sliding the zipper down, but he makes no effort to stop me. He wants this too, even though he shouldn't because the focus isn't on me, and his job is to pleasure me.

When I reach for him, a whimper escapes my mouth and Peeta smiles in response. His cock is hot in my hand; I grasp him tightly causing his entire body to shudder, as his head lulls back and his eyes close.

"Watch me," I demand, similar to how he prompted me a few nights before. Peeta's eyes flutter open and connect with mine at the exact moment I run the flat of my tongue from his base to his tip. He groans loudly and slips his hand into my hair, resting just behind my ear. I swirl my tongue around his tip, tasting the true salt of him before wrapping my lips around his head and sucking. His hips jut towards my face softly. I pull him all the way into my mouth, creating a deep suction that elicits a moan from Peeta while causing a slick heat to ease from between my legs.

When I begin to bob up and down, stopping only to flick and draw circles on his head with the tip of my tongue as a means of prolonging the experience, Peeta weaves both of his hands deep in my hair, anchoring them there as he gently pushes up to meet the motions of my mouth. When the inevitable is no longer capable of stalling, he warns me, but I take him further and swallow as he spills himself into my mouth.

* * *

Deep booming thuds wake me from a fitful sleep, I'm resting on my side, arm shoved up under a pillow. A glance at the bedside clock shocks me, I've slept all night. "I think someone is at the door," Peeta slurs, his voice heavy with sleep before he nuzzles his face back into my neck. My back is flush against his chest. I'm spooning with a prostitute and it just so happens I'm the most rested I've felt in years.

As soon as the knocking stops, my phone on the bedside table starts buzzing, then stops before starting again. I know who it is before reaching for it. Instead of answering, I untangle myself from Peeta and wrap myself in a robe, then open the door coming face-to-face with an extremely angry and red faced Gale Hawthorne.

"Did you just forget about the meeting this morning, or did you intentionally fuck us over?" he demands as he barges into the room. "Snow is livid that you weren't there. You know he hates me. I made up some excuse about woman troubles and that shut him up, but we rescheduled for this afternoon. You'd better get your shit together and be there, Katniss."

Gale is a hot head, but that doesn't mean I like him screaming at me. "So I overslept, big fucking deal Gale. I cover your ass all the time." He steps towards me, his critical gaze roving up and then down my body, and then he rolls his eyes.

"Sleep? Don't lie to me, Katniss, you don't ever sleep. You were fucking that boy toy of yours, weren't you?" Gale's tone is venomous, more hateful than he has ever been with me before.

I jab my finger into his chest, "Call Peeta _that_ again, and I'll leave Los Angeles without ever settling this deal. Do you hear me, Gale Hawthorne?"

The derisive snort that escapes his lips only fuels my fury. "I'm serious, Hawthorne. Don't you ever disrespect my…my…" I sort through my rage, trying to figure out the appropriate word to call Peeta and I come up short, "…my Peeta that way. Ever. I'm not hateful about your wife or your mistress, so don't even think it's okay to insult someone who is close to me."

Gale begins to laugh. It is not genuine because this moment isn't funny; he is laughing as a means of being hateful. "Oh, fuck Catnip, that's rich. You pay for his time, of course he's close to you. It's not exactly a fair comparison, but it sure is funny. At least I don't have to pay Madge and Johanna to be around me, that's more than can be said for you."

He's right. I've known the entire time that Peeta was playing a part I asked him to, paid him to, but somehow I let myself get lost in the illusion that he was enjoying my presence as much as I was his. Apparently, my countenance betrays my feelings. "Aw, shit Catnip, I'm sorry. That last thing I said I didn't mean. I like spending time with you. I was just mad because you've been acting so differently and not focusing on work. Instead of razzing you, I should have been here to help you sort things out."

I glare at Gale. His apology is sincere, but I'm still mad. Maybe not entirely at him, but mostly at myself for getting so wrapped up in the way being around Peeta makes me feel. "What time is the meeting?"

"2pm."

"I'll be there. See you soon." I close the door behind Gale and turn to find Peeta standing behind me, looking beautifully disheveled and entirely too adorable for me to handle right now. The look in his eyes makes me realize that he heard the entire exchange between Gale and I. He stares directly at me while reaching out a hand, but I don't take it. I can't handle his pity right now.

Instead of bringing it up, he starts rambling, "I wish you had a kitchen here, because I would make you the best pancakes. After tasting them, I doubt you would ever be able to enjoy another pancake without comparing it to mine." I know he is talking about breakfast food, making polite conversation, but I realize that the pancakes may as well be an analogy for Peeta himself.

No one has ever made me feel the way he has, and once he is gone, it will be hard to move forward. Technically, we have two more days together, but I don't think I can handle another two days if the four previous have already reduced me to a blubbering pool of emotion, devoid of the ability to remember a morning meeting.

"That sounds nice, Peeta." I don't even meet his eyes as I say this, instead stare at his bare feet. "Why don't you just order some up? I'm going to take a shower and get out of here for the day."

"What? You have to eat breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day." I imagine at one point in his life someone who cared about Peeta passed on this tidbit of information, though in the time that he has been in Los Angeles, I wonder how many times he has been able to afford to actually follow through with this advice.

"I'll be fine." He thinks I'm talking about breakfast, but I'm not. I'm reassuring myself that when he leaves, I'll be okay without him. "And, Peeta?"

I force myself to meet his eyes. They connect with mine and he offers a broad smile, "Yes, Katniss?"

Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, but I can't help myself. "I was hoping that tonight we could fuck." I can't have him leaving without knowing what it feels like to have him inside me. It won't make his absence any easier, perhaps in many ways harder, but not knowing how it felt to be with him would be worse than the alternative.

Peeta's eyebrows raise, and a smirk dances across his face. "That can be arranged." I'm almost convinced that he is looking forward to us having sex as much as I am, but then I just remind myself that he is very good at his job.

"Good. Thank you. I also think that you have definitely earned the amount we settled on and then some. I've truly enjoyed your company, but will be so busy the next few days that I think it may be best for you to take the rest of the week off after we are together tonight ." His face is slightly puzzled, and he opens his mouth, but I cut him off. "Don't worry, like I said, you've earned the amount we agreed upon. I'll have the cash ready for you tonight, and of course, the clothing and other things are yours to keep as well." My heart aches as I say these things, because I don't want him to go. Once inside the bathroom, I blast the shower as hot as my skin can take and drop to floor of the stall, letting the water wash over me and hide the sounds of my sobs.

By the time I exit the shower, all traces of my sadness have been washed down the drain and I'm back, the Katniss that people expect and the one that Gale needs to close the deal.

* * *

**Thank you so much to Chelzie and Wildharp for their beta work! I also want to thank Falafel_Waffel for the prompt, and all of you for the wonderful reviews, follows, favorites, and support! I love you all!**


	5. Chapter 5

**_You guys are awesome, only one more chapter after this. Enjoy!..._**

* * *

Snow quickly forgives my absence that morning once he takes a look at some of the projected revenue calculations I have prepared for him. Negotiations go better than expected and by the time we load into the car to head back to the hotel, even Gale seems more relaxed.

I'm not relaxed though, and my head is spinning.

Peeta is sitting on the couch hunched over his sketchbook, hands working furiously and eyebrows pushed together. He is shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, and I'm not completely sure he heard me come in. I put my bag on an oversized chair and walk up beside him. "Hey."

He looks up at me and I notice a pencil smudge on his left cheek. "Katniss," his eyes light up as he greets me and a smile unfurls across his face, "How'd it go?"

"It went. I'm going to go change and then we can grab some food." I turn around and head towards the bedroom.

I can hear the shuffle of papers. "Everything okay? You don't look like everything went okay." Negotiations went fine, but apparently my feelings about him leaving are weighing heavily enough on me that it is obvious to him.

"Just a bit overwhelmed is all. Let's get some food, okay?" I look at him and offer a weak smile. My words are the truth, but he doesn't have to know what is overwhelming me.

"But, what about what you asked for this morning?" He approaches me and runs his thumb over my cheekbone, causing me to lean into his touch, "It's all I could think about while you were gone."

I know he heard what Gale said to me this morning; he's just trying to make me feel better. "That's sweet, Peeta, but you don't have to say things like that. I know what this is." Him placating me doesn't make me feel any better. This is much easier when the line between business transaction and pleasure isn't blurred.

His eyebrows furrow and he slightly scowls at me. His hand drops from my face and he takes a step back, studying me. The look passes and then he is there, back in my immediate space. He pushes my jacket off my shoulders with one hand while the other tangles in my hair, removing pins and ties, allowing it to cascade down my back.

Peeta is determined to make this happen now. I thought I'd get a few more hours to spend with him, but unfortunately, this isn't the case. He is ready to go home.

He gathers some of my hair into his fist and tugs, forcing my head back and my eyes to rise to his. The intensity of his gaze pierces through me, shooting through every inch of my body. I gasp as Peeta attaches his mouth to my neck, licking and sucking at a feverish pace as he works his way from beneath my ear down my jaw. When he slows the pace and kisses me square on the mouth, I'm mid moan and completely unprepared for the feel of his lips against mine. His hand snakes up my back and holds the base of my neck as he melds his lips to mine. My knees become unsteady from the tender way in which his mouth moves. When I feel his tongue lick lightly at my bottom lip and then move into my mouth, I pull at his hair, moaning in response to the ache developing between my legs.

I yank on his arms and we fall back onto the bed. He breaks the kiss panting and grins at me, placing a soft, quick kiss to my mouth before standing up and pushing his sweats down his hips. He reaches for my feet and removes my shoes, and I slide out of my skirt. "Um, I've got a couple different condoms, do you have a preference?"

"Not really." I shake my head while working my underwear down my legs, then roll onto my stomach. I think it will be easier if he takes me from behind; if I don't have to look at him, the experience will be less personal. "I assume this is the easiest way," I assert as I push myself up on my knees and lean into my elbows.

Peeta's hand comes to rest on my ass. "Mmmm, so wet already, always so wet, Katniss. We won't need the condoms with extra lubrication, will we?" he muses and then I feel his mouth on me as his tongue traces my slit and slips between my folds. As the tension begins to build deep in my stomach, I roll my hips back into his face. Unexpectedly, Peeta flips me over on my back with one swift move. "Fuck, I love the way you taste. It makes me so hard it hurts. Katniss, can you see how hard you make me?"

I can see.

My knees are splayed open and Peeta is kneeling between them. He is beautifully erect, flushed a deep pink and perpendicular to his body. "I see, but can I feel? Please let me feel you, Peeta." My hand reaches for him and he grabs it, pulling me to a sitting position beside him. I wrap my hands around him and he groans, thrusting up against them. I lean over and take him into my mouth, delighting in the feel of him against my tongue as I lick him up and down.

"Ah, fuck, that feels good. You gotta stop, though; I won't last long if you keep that up." With one deep suck, my lips pop and Peeta's cock falls free. Despite being incredibly aroused, the evidence sliding down my thighs, I suddenly feel very shy. I've had sex many times with several different men, and even the first time I didn't feel as anxious as I do now.

I look up at Peeta from underneath my eyelashes, "Where do want you me?"

"Katniss, relax! The way you give head tells me this isn't your first rodeo, but you are acting like it is." He pulls me towards him as he speaks, "It's just me, nothing to be nervous about." He captures my lips in another deep kiss. I know he said there was nothing to be nervous about, but the way my body falls into his and my knees become rubber under the careful attentions of his mouth on mine is enough to incite a panic attack.

Peeta pulls back and frowns at me. "You need to get out of here," he gently taps his index finger against my forehead before running a finger down the slope of my nose, bringing it to rest on my lips. "And enjoy what's happening here." I feel my lips curl in a smile underneath his finger, which he replaces with his lips and nibbles on my bottom lip. Peeta trails a finger down between my breasts, circling each nipple lightly before descending lower and cupping me between my legs. "And how it makes you feel here." He slides his tongue into my mouth while he dips a finger between my folds, gathering wetness and carefully spreading it up over my clit.

We kiss deeply, tongues working together in an almost orchestrated dance that both excites and relaxes me. Peeta's finger is lightly skimming over me the entire time, a mere tickle that causes me to arch against him, my body begging for more. He has one arm wrapped around my back anchoring me to him, as his other hand dances and teases between my legs. By the time Peeta moves to rest his back against the head board and makes a motion for me to follow him, my body is wound tight, the tension curled to an almost painful spiral. I'm ready for release and he isn't even inside of me.

He helps me settle a knee on either side of his hips, but lightly presses on my hips so that my ass rests on his thighs instead of in a position to take him. "Necessary evil," he jokes with a wink as he rolls a condom down his length. Then his mouth is on mine again, kissing with small nips, working his way down my neck before sucking a nipple in between his lips. I rise up on my knees to meet his mouth. With how worked up I am, I may come from this alone.

Peeta bites lightly, using the suction of his mouth and the tip of his tongue to cause my hips to rock towards him, seeking to be filled. He slides a finger inside me, pumping it in and out of me twice before working a second in. My entire body tenses as my hips cease their rocking motion. I am strung high and tight, suspended over Peeta's thighs as he works his fingers inside of me. I am so close to falling apart, but it feels like an impossibility before he adds his thumb to the mix. He grazes it over my swollen clit, and I cry out. Peeta repeats the motion in tandem with his rocking fingers and I fall over, my face buried in his neck as the coil snaps and I become a victim to the innumerable sensations rocketing through my body.

"You are so fucking lovely," he murmurs into my neck. I'm pressed up against him, panting and trying to pull myself back together. "I don't mean that you're beautiful," Peeta brushes the hair from my neck and presses soft kisses there, "Because even though you are gorgeous, you are so much more than that."

My skin is overly sensitive, and his gentle kisses are enough to cause my skin to pebble even in the warm air. Peeta's hard cock is sandwiched between us. I grab his shaft and rise up above him, positioning his tip at my entrance before impaling myself on top of him. The feeling of him stretching and filling me causes me to take in a sharp breath. I rest my forehead against his, steadying myself as his hands find my hips, grasping tightly and directing me backwards. I follow the direction of his strong hands as I glide back and forth over him. The build is slow as I ease his cock in and out of my body, but as the pace quickens, Peeta grabs me and lays me on my back.

He runs his hands up the inside of my thighs before pinning my legs up against the bed, spreading and thrusting into me as he hovers over my frame. I miss having him close to me; I'd reach for him if I thought that was okay, if I thought he wanted me close, too. I shut my eyes and try to lose myself in the delicious friction building between my legs, getting myself out of my head. "Katniss…" Peeta whispers my name and releases my legs. I wrap them around his waist as he lowers himself down to lay flush against my chest.

"Peeta…" His name slips from my lips as his eyes connect with mine and my hips roll up into him. I'm getting so close to the edge again. My body is clenching and pulling him deeper inside me with each thrust. He begins pushing into me faster and harder, forehead pressed against mine, eyes locked as we work together towards completion. With a twist of his hips and a press of my body against him, I come again and pull him over the precipice with me. Peeta collapses on top of me, the weight of his body the only thing holding me together as I shatter underneath him.

My body slowly comes down from the post orgasmic bliss, and the real world is starting to creep in again. Peeta kissing me was perfect, and everything that I didn't need to complicate things. I'm not sure how I'll be able to breathe when he leaves, but I know it is inevitable.

Peeta is lying on his back and I'm resting my head on his chest. He is softly stroking my hair as I listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, soaking up these last few minutes of contact with him. His hand stills in my hair, "I heard the argument with Gale this morning, Katniss. I heard the things he said to you, and what you said back. Thank you for defending me. No one has ever stuck up for me before." I hear the words that Peeta is saying with my ears, but really feel them with my heart.

A lone tear streaks down my face, and before I can wipe it away, it drops to the skin of Peeta's chest. I sit up quickly. I need to get control of myself and this situation before I embarrass myself beyond what I already have.

He needs to go.

I need him out of here.

I move to the edge of the bed, never once looking back at him. "How much extra for the kissing? It was a nice touch, and I know that you don't care to do that with clients. I want to make sure you are compensated." My voice cracks a little towards the end. I won't be able to hold this together much longer, so he really needs to leave.

"Katniss?" My name sounds like a heavy question on his lips, and I can tell this situation is rapidly deteriorating. Surely he can see right through me, and worst of all, he feels sorry for me.

I gather my shirt and pull it over myself, not able to bear being physically naked in front of him when I feel completely exposed emotionally. I walk into the other room, extricating the envelope from my bag with the money that we agreed upon. There is also a significant amount extra. When I walk back in the room, I notice that Peeta has pulled his sweatpants back on but is sitting on the bed. His back is turned to me, which is perfect because I can't bear to look at him right now.

With a few deep breaths, I steady myself and toss the envelope on the bed. "I'm going to shower and then get to work. Please feel free to use my car; the driver was waiting to take us to dinner any way, and he would be happy to take you home. You'll find the compensation we agreed upon and a little extra in the envelope. Thank you for your time…" Not once does he turn to look to me, but slowly lowers his arms to rest on his knees, slouching over. "It was truly wonderful."

I crank the shower up full blast, but don't get in. I'm not ready to wash Peeta off of me just yet. Instead, I curl up on the bathmat, crying as I trace the places where Peeta's tongue trailed over my skin with my fingertips. I want to burn those moments with him to memory, so I can recall them on especially lonely nights.

Gale is right, I've changed. Peeta's presence has softened me, reminded me how to be human. Even with him gone, I don't want to go back to who I was before. Being with Peeta helped me find myself; he reminded me what it felt like to care, to feel, and even to love.

That's all gone now. He's gone, and I'm lost again.

* * *

**As always, thank you to the lovely Chelzie, hilarious Wildharp, and creative Falafel...appreciate you all, so much!**


	6. Chapter 6

I find myself unable to deal with the enormous hotel suite without Peeta and instead stay in the bathroom. Eventually, I turn the water off and let the quiet of the marble bathroom engulf me. I curl into a ball and remain on the mat most of the night.

I don't shower.

I don't sleep.

I barely even move from my spot on the mat.

Instead, I mourn what was never mine to mourn. I grieve the absence of something that is impossible and a man who saw his time with me as a business transaction. I wallow, hurt, and let myself be consumed by emptiness. I'm not sure what pisses me off more, that fact that Peeta was never even an option or that I let myself enjoy the fantasy of him so thoroughly that my mind forgot what was real.

The way that Peeta was while we had sex was truly my undoing. He was attentive and gentle, staring into my eyes and kissing me so soundly and fully that I completely lost myself in him. If I didn't know better, I'd believe that he had been making love to me. I remind myself it was just sex, just fucking; of course, Peeta is good at it, he's paid to be a professional.

The incessant ringing of the room phone finally brings me out of my stupor enough to leave the mat. I'm sure it's Gale; there is no one else who would call me this early in the morning. When I finally exit the room though, I notice two things: first, there is sunlight slipping through the curtains, and second, the money I left for Peeta is still where I threw it on the bed. The phone continues ringing, but I run around the room finding all of the things that I purchased for Peeta, too. The only things missing are his beloved sketchpad and ratty backpack. My stomach lurches, wanting to revolt and empty its contents, even though I haven't had a meal since yesterday.

Peeta didn't take the money.

This doesn't make any sense. He needs that money and possibly more than that, I need him to take the money. Everything has backfired miserably. All I wanted to do was take care of him, but now he is gone and neither him nor I have benefited from our time together.

With a renewed sense of vigor, I make phone two calls. The first one is to the car service. I get the address of where Peeta was dropped off at and then make arrangements with my assistant to hand deliver the money. The next call is the easiest decision I have made in a long time. After I email all the details I have been busting my ass over to Gale, I let him know that I'm done. If he wants this merger with Snow, then he can make it happen. I'm taking time off, I tell him, and let him know that while I'll check in occasionally, he is in charge for the time being.

Gale is understandably pissed; he yells and threatens before I hang up on him. My attention for this and the ability to function are fading quickly. My mind is filled with images of Peeta.

Peeta screaming and cheering at the game, his furrowed brow with pencil moving furiously over paper, Peeta sleeping and the sheets barely covering his nude form, Peeta admiring pieces of fine art and my crappy hand painted pottery with the same enthusiasm, it is all Peeta.

I just want to lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and exist in a state of self-pity for a while. I've earned this luxury, haven't I? I've taken care of Prim, done what was expected of me, made enormous amounts of money, and it has cost me who I am.

I take to bed.

I lie in the sheets surrounded by Peeta's smell and I cry, mope, and lament what's become of my life and the fact that within a matter of days I have become completely enamored by a man that should not even have been in my immediate periphery, and it has broken me. I don't even recognize myself. The old Katniss would never break down like this, and while I am not sure this Katniss is better, I know that I can never be the same Katniss I was before.

* * *

Seconds turn into minutes, minutes into hours, and finally, hours into days.

Two full days since Peeta left.

I wonder if he got the money. I'd know if I got out of bed and did something aside from sleep and ruminate. The phone has long since been removed from the hook, my cell phone has a dead battery and housekeeping has been warned that I am not to be disturbed.

I am floating in that comfortable space between lucidity and sleep when a pounding at the door alerts me that Gale has decided that my pity party is over.

I ignore it.

Gale knows better – I told him not to bother.

The loud thumping persists, and there is now shouting accompanying it. This will not do. I rise from bed, my body taking a while to adjust to being upright and moving as I slowly make my way to the door. I don't bother looking in the mirror, I know what I'd find and greasy hair and sallow skin aren't exactly something I want to look at.

"Go away, Hawthorne! I told you to leave me alone." I yell out as I approach the door...It is preferable if I don't have to walk the entire way.

There is muffled shouting from behind the door that doesn't sound like Gale. Just my luck, he fucked with the reservation or something and now I'm getting kicked out of the room.

I open the door and suddenly Peeta is there, hands on his hips, eyes blazing. "You don't get to do that to me, Katniss." His eyes find me, a mess with tangled hair, red eyes, and I have no doubt that he can probably smell me, too. "Oh, Katniss; Christ, you're a mess." Peeta is beside me in an instant, pulling me into his arms, cradling my head to his chest.

Even though I am completely stunned to find him here, tears have started falling and there is no stopping them. I try my best to speak over them, "I don't get to do what, Peeta?" I don't look at him. I let him hold me against his chest; it feels so impossibly good that I wonder if I'm hallucinating.

"It's not important. What's wrong? Talk to me," he insists, squeezing me tightly.

Peeta has already calmed down from how he was when the door opened. "How do you do that? You burst in here angry and then instantly calm down. I want to know why you were upset, Peeta. Tell me what I don't get to do."

"I was going to say, that you don't get to treat me like a whore. Not you," Peeta says this softly, almost like he is embarrassed to admit he feels that way. "When you threw that money at me, it hurt so bad that I didn't think I could breathe," Peeta pauses for a minute. "I had started to believe I was more than a whore to you."

"You are, Peeta, you are so much more than that. I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I'm so sorry for everything." His grip on me tightens, and my fears spew out of me in a jumbled mess. "I just wanted you to be taken care of, but I never saw you like that, never."

"It's what I am, though. You helped me forget it for a little while and made me feel like a person; like I am worth more than just a cock for hire. But at the end of the day, this is what I am," he says as if it's just something to be accepted. I had no idea he felt this way. He always seemed so sure of himself, so happy. He may in fact be the best person that I know. "When you gave me the money and sent me on my way, you reminded me of what I was and I wasn't ready to deal with it. I didn't want to go, and not just because of how nice it was here. It was because of you. I'd want to be with you even if we were eating ramen every day."

My heart clenches in my chest. I believe him despite what Gale and everyone else would want me to believe. Peeta isn't the type to lie about things like this. After all, he has been alluding that he felt more all week, I just wouldn't let myself believe it. "Do you really want to spend time with me, Peeta?"

"More than I should," he admits. "I know I'm not exactly in your league, but I want to be with you."

"Not in my league? Peeta, I want to be with you, too. After this week, I can't imagine wanting to be with anyone else." There are still tears sliding down my face, but for a completely different reason than why they started. This is something that I've fantasized about the last few days, but never thought would happen. If given the chance, what would I offer to make him want to stay with me?

"Come with me, then. Come with me, and you can do whatever you want to do. If you want go to school, we'll look into programs; if you want to get a job, we'll find you one; if you want to paint all day long, we'll set up a studio. Just come with me and we'll figure it all out."

Peeta doesn't look like my words put him at ease, in fact, he looks stressed. "No matter what I do, I'll never be able to pay you back. I'll always owe you, Katniss, always."

"You won't owe me anything, Peeta. Being with you is all I need, because you make all this worth it. This isn't a transaction. I don't want anyone buying you ever again." I'll tell Peeta soon enough, I'll tell him how my Daddy died and my Momma disappeared inside herself. He'll know that I'm like him, but I got help much sooner.

"I need you, too, Katniss. I had no idea what this could feel like. I'm not sure I could sell myself anymore even if I tried."

"Then don't."

"You really mean this? Not because I'm a project, but because you want to be with me? Because I like you, Katniss. I mean _really_ like you, and I know you are too good for me."

I kiss him. "Trust me, Peeta, I am not the one who is too good here. If you really are doing this for me, then yes, please come with me. We'll leave here tonight and vacation wherever you want and just figure things out for awhile. Eventually we can go back to real life, but for now I want to get to know you, and tell you about me."

"Okay, but only one condition, and don't be mad?" Peeta asks with a smile on his face that illuminates the room.

"Anything!" I promise him and really mean it.

His hand reaches up to swipe at his nose in a now familiar gesture. "Uh, you've got to take a bath."

* * *

Perhaps we will tire of one another and things won't be as happy as I imagine they will. Or maybe being together will be everything that we hoped and together, Peeta and I will be the best versions of ourselves possible. We won't know until we try, and in this moment, I know we will do anything and everything we can to make this happen.

* * *

**Thank you so much for every review, follow, and favorite! You guys are such wonderful readers and I appreciate you all so very much!**

**I'm going to list this story as complete, however, I am considering doing either an epilogue further into the future or some Peeta POV's that I will post here so you may want to leave it on your alert list! I just need to wrap up First Speech and some other projects first!**

**Thank you to Falafel_Waffle for the prompt, and Chelzie and Wildharp for the beta work! Find me on tumblr (kismetff) for information on my latest writing projects, musings about Gale Hawthorne and Everlark, and other nonsense!**


End file.
